


Wrestling with the Washing Machine

by WorryinglyInnocent



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling, F/M, Fluff, Rumbelle - Freeform, fixing appliances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 14:44:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17851556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorryinglyInnocent/pseuds/WorryinglyInnocent
Summary: Mr Gold is rather flustered by the lovely young woman who has come to fix his washing machine.Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: “I’m fixing *insert appliance/furniture/house thing* and now I’m all sweaty”





	Wrestling with the Washing Machine

 

When Mr Gold answered the doorbell of his salmon pink Victorian home at half-past three on a Sunday afternoon, he had been expecting pretty much anything except the sight that met him.

A full marching band with banners proclaiming their support for a halibut for the next president would have surprised him just a little less than a young woman wearing jeans and a utility belt, her dark hair in a bouncy ponytail and a sunny, eager smile on her face.

“Hi, Mr Gold. I understand you have a problem with your washing machine?”

Against what was possibly his better judgement, Gold closed the door without speaking, and he stood staring at the wood for a few moments. His reputation around the town was bad enough already; adding ‘slamming doors in nice young ladies’ faces’ to the list of his sins was hardly going to make a difference.

Gold did indeed have a problem with his washing machine, namely that it would get halfway through a cycle and then randomly switch itself off, leaving him with a washing machine full of water and sudsy clothes. What perturbed him was that the only person who knew about his washing machine predicament was Dove, whom he had called in his capacity as a general handyman and jack of all trades.

Had Dove sent him some kind of stripper-gram as a joke? No, Dove wasn’t that kind. His sense of humour was sharp and dry, which was one of the reasons why Gold got on with him so well, and he valued his position enough to know not to do anything like that to his employer. Besides, the lady’s attire had been practical rather than provocative.

He opened the door again. She was still standing there, looking rather amused by his reaction to her presence.

“Who are you?” he asked, trying not to sound like he was suspicious of her.

“My name’s Belle. I’m Mr Dove’s niece. He sent me to fix the washing machine. He would have come himself, but he’s done his back in, so he’s staring at the ceiling in the living room to rest it. I assure you that I’m very competent; I do all the fixing at home.”

Satisfied by her credentials, Gold stood back and let her in, leading her through to the kitchen and reflecting that he hadn’t known Dove had any relatives at all, let alone a disarmingly pretty niece.

He’d managed to get the laundry out of the washing machine - it was now sitting in a pile in the conservatory - and he had drained out the water as best he could.

Belle took one look at the appliance and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ve seen this kind of thing before, I know what the problem is. It’s not the machine, it’s the wiring. There’s something wrong with the electricity supply, so it’ll just cut out in the middle of the cycle as the machine dies. It should be a simple enough fix if I can get to the plug socket behind it.”

She was standing with her hands on her hips, looking brisk and business-like and far cuter than she had any right to be. Tapping one finger against her lips as she thought hard, a little furrow coming between her brows, she suddenly whirled round on her heel to face Gold.

“Have you got some old towels we can put down to soak up any spills? There’s still water in the drum and I don’t want it to slop when I move it.”

Gold looked at the machine, and then at Belle, and he wondered how on earth she was going to move the thing. She was tiny, looking like she might blow away in a sharp gust of wind.

“Mr Gold?”

He realised that he hadn’t answered her, and he gave an awkward cough. “Yes. Towels. Right.”

He left the room to go and retrieve the stack of towels he kept in the hall closet for household purposes, and when he returned, he found Belle on her hands and knees in front of the machine, looking in through the door and glaring at its innards.

“I wonder when was the last time you were serviced,” she was muttering to it. “I reckon you could do with a nice deep-clean and de-scale. That’ll make you feel better, even if your power supply is causing your current woes. You’ve had all that stale water sitting in the bottom there for a couple of days now, and that can’t be very pleasant for you.”

“Are you talking to the washing machine?”

Belle jumped up on hearing his voice, looking like she’d been stung, and her face was beet red as she turned to him.

“Nope?” she said brightly, then her shoulders sagged. “Yes, I was. I find that appliances always tend to work better when you’re nice to them. If you’re constantly kicking them and telling them that they’re stupid pieces of junk, then they’re never going to work properly for you. You wouldn’t work properly for someone if they told you that you were a piece of junk.”

There was a vehemence in her tone, and Gold wondered if she had first-hand experience of such a thing. He decided that it would be better not to ask, and just to let Belle get on with the process of fixing his washing machine. If that involved sweet-talking it, then so be it.

Together they spread the towels down on the kitchen floor, and Belle set her weight, ready to move the machine.

“Do you need a hand there?” Not that Gold thought he was going to be any better placed to move the thing, but perhaps they could manage it between them.

“No, no, it’s fine. I don’t need to move it much, just enough for me to shimmy down behind it so that I can get at the plug. Besides, I don’t want to put any strain on your ankle, and I really don’t want to have to deal with two men putting their backs out thanks to moving heavy machinery.”

Gold was about to point  out the likelihood of Belle herself ending up flat on her back next to her uncle, but before he could do so, there was a shriek as the machine jolted forwards, and Belle stood up, admiring her handiwork.

“Perfect.”

Gold just stared at her in gobsmacked wonder. She must have arms of steel. He was still picking his jaw up off the floor when she vaulted herself up onto the machine and slithered down into the gap behind it, vanishing from view completely.

For the next few minutes, the only indication Gold had that Belle was even there were the occasional grunts of exertion as she fiddled about in the tight space behind the machine. Presently a slim arm appeared, putting a screwdriver on top of the machine and then disappearing again.

There was a loud bang and some muttered profanity, and Gold chanced to take a step closer to the washing machine.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine, the stupid thing just won’t go in far enough and there’s not enough leverage to wiggle it about.”

Gold really didn’t know what to say to that, because combined with all her grunting, his mind was going to some places that were fast becoming rather inappropriate.

Her hand appeared over the top of the machine again, groping for the screwdriver. Gold hastened to hand it to her.

“Thank you!”

There was another sound that bordered closely on the obscene end of the scale, and Gold decided that it would be a good idea to sit down before his knees gave out completely. Good grief, he’d only known the woman five minutes and he employed her uncle, he really shouldn’t be having those kind of thoughts about her. She was performing manual labour, there shouldn’t be anything remotely sexual about it.

There was an exclamation of triumph from behind the machine, and Belle popped up again, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead. Her face was flushed a very pretty pink colour from the exertion, and there was sweat dripping along her hairline, but Gold was still of the impression that she was possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Belle pulled herself up from behind the washing machine and vaulted over it again, before giving a huge heave and wrestling it back into position.

“It should work fine now, Mr Gold,” she said brightly. “The wiring in the plug socket had gone, but I’ve fixed it now. No more trouble.”

She gathered up the damp towels and folded them neatly onto the side, and then gave him a brilliant smile. “I’ll be off now, then.”

“Wait.” Gold raced after her as she made her way towards the front door again. “I really should compensate you for your time.”

“Oh, it was nothing. I was just doing a favour for Uncle Derek.”

“I understand, but I do pay your Uncle Derek.”

Belle looked ponderous for a moment. “It was an easy job, really. Not worth much. Maybe you could buy me a drink instead?”

“A pardon?”

“A drink.” Belle grinned. “Would you like to buy me a drink as payment for me fixing your washing machine?”

“I… Yes.” He nodded enthusiastically lest his intentions be misinterpreted. “Yes, I’d like that a lot.”

“Is tonight good for you? I go back to Boston tomorrow. Aesop’s Tables?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“I’ll see you there, then. Eight o’clock?”

Gold nodded as he opened the front door and Belle trotted down the path towards the Mini parked up behind his Cadillac in the driveway. For several minutes after she had driven away, he could only stand in the doorway staring at where she had been.

Well, that was certainly a new experience for him. He had started the day with a broken washing machine, and he had ended it with a date.

 


End file.
